Learning to Trust
by Aria Rayn
Summary: Sequel to the oneshot Never Really Knew. O'Neill has bridges to rebuild, a friendship to mend...can he do it? Sam POV mostly, may change for a chapter or two later.
1. Chapter 1

_Sequel to the one-shot, Never Really Knew. Broken bridges need to be rebuilt and friendships mended._

Learning to Trust, Part One

"So, to clarify…this whole past week, starting with the meeting on Tollana – which I worked really hard on, by the way….was a scam?" Daniel asked. Sam looked to him, then back to Hammond. Hope flittered in her chest, but was quickly killed when O'Neill's heartless words replayed themselves over and over in her mind. Was it truly possible that he'd been _pretending_ the _entire time?_

"The Tollen, Asgard, and Nox had approached us with proof that we had been stealing technology from them.

"Us?" Sam asked incredulously. "You mean, the SGC?"

"Yes, they were ready to sever all ties with us when we convinced them that it had to be a rogue element outside the SGC."

"We insisted you bring the perpetrators to justice yourselves," said the councilwoman of Tollana with a whispery smile.

Sam felt frozen. True. It was true. O'Neill had been pretending the whole time. Knowing this, she waited for the gratefulness, the happiness to overwhelm her.

It didn't. In fact, what had been a small spark died completely.

If she knew O'Neill before, she didn't now.

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As the General led the Tollen representatives away, Sam retreated to her lab as quickly as possible, not waiting for O'Neill to address her. She wasn't ready to face the fact that she'd been, as Daniel so accurately put it, scammed.

Rubbing her hands together, she felt out of place and alone in the desolate lab she'd so often sought out as a refuge. Her attention briefly wandered to Colonel Makepeace, who'd been her commanding officer for only a week…

Honestly, Makepeace had the air of a man who didn't care. He called Teal'c "the Jaffa", seemed to blow off Daniel in the rudest way that even O'Neill had not managed, and he seemed to sneer her name as though she were no more than dirt on his size-twelve military issue combat boots.

_So which is worse?_ she wondered bitterly. _Being the dirt on Makepeace's shoe or pond scum of O'Neill's?_


	2. Chapter 2

Learning to Trust, Part Two

"Knock, knock," said a familiar voice from the door.

Sam jumped; great, so much for avoiding him. "Sir," she acknowledged with a small shake of the head, shuffling through papers to give her something to do.

"Look, about the whole…not acting like myself…thing…well, I wasn't…acting like myself," he finished awkwardly.

She took a deep breath and sorted through the papers, putting them into neat piles. "I know, sir," she said quietly.

"Am I still the black pieces?"

The question hung uneasily in the air. Sam paused. "No, sir," she said, still not looking at him, and began sorting again.

"Are we still friends?"

Friends. The word felt unwelcoming in her confused feelings. It was as though her compassion, her heart was frozen in time. She wanted to go back to the friendship she'd felt for him before, even knowing it had distinctly began to burn a little more brightly than friendship, just a smidgen. But she didn't know if she could.

"I don't know."

Silence reigned. "You don't know," he repeated.

Sam nodded, drawing in a long sniff. "Yeah," she said, trying not to cry. She'd done that a few times in the past week. Though she'd never admit it, he really hurt her. "I know you were just doing your job, but…" She leaned on the desk, her palms cupping the edge of it, staring at the wall.

Her senses were betraying her, acutely tuned to his every move; she felt, rather than saw, him come up behind her. She expected him to yell, to reprimand her, to…something, but what he did wasn't what she expected at all: his arms slid around her stomach and he tentatively pulled himself against her back. Surprised and embarrassed by his embrace, Sam tightened, not knowing what to say or do.

His breath was warm and intoxicating on her ear; she wasn't sure if it was the good intoxication or bad. "Sam," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

Her voice caught in her throat but she managed to choke out, "Why?"

O'Neill's arms tightened around her. "Why am I sorry?"

"Why Edora?"

His body tensed. "It made sense."

"It _made sense?_" Sam snapped twisting around and abruptly pushing him away from her. The look of shock on his face almost shattered her demeanor, but it didn't.

"Why? _Why_ did it have to be_ Edora_?" she demanded with all the air of a woman whose heart was broken. Her chest was heaving, and she was beginning to find it hard to hold back tears. And so Sam waited, waited for him to answer her.

But all he did was stare, bewildered, as though she were a madwoman. Maybe she was; she felt like it. Wild and calm, weak and strong – emotions pulsed through her so hard and fast she could barely stand it.

"What's wrong with Edora?" he asked softly.

Sam stared at him incredulously, knowing she must look pathetic and hating herself for it. She couldn't believe it, couldn't believe he didn't know, understand. That he'd been completely blind.

Her conscience nagged, _Of course, they set up that trap for the rogue agents almost immediately after Jack got back, _it told her pointedly. _Which was why you didn't realize the Asgard, Nox, or Tollen had stopped by._

Sam closed her eyes and shook her head. "Nothing sir," she murmured, starting to walk out of the lab. "Forget I mentioned it."

"Wait a minute!" he said, grasping her arm gently, obviously not expecting her to put up a fight.

"Leave me alone, sir!" Sam cried, ripping her arm away and sprinting away, down the hall and to the elevator in record time. She ignored his calls and demands, pressing the first button her hand got to. Tears were streaming down her face and she fought to cease them, wiping her face again and again. It was time to go home. It was time to find a way to get off SG-1. How could she face him again?


	3. Chapter 3

Learning to Trust Part Three

Daniel was engrossed in an extremely interesting artifact when Jack came knocking on his door.

"Hey Daniel."

Daniel looked up at him from under his glasses, neck still bent over the translations he was working on for that interesting artifact. "Jack?" he asked, looking from side to side from the corner of his eyes. It was a skill he thought himself particularly gifted with, the way he could look around without moving a muscle of his body.

Still, he was particularly surprised to be seeing Jack so soon. "Why aren't you with Sam?" he asked as he straightened, trying to keep his voice non-accusatory.

"She ran out on me!" Jack said angrily. "I tried to apologize, then she kept shouting something about Edora…"

Daniel's eyebrows disappeared under his hair. "Jack, you idiot!" he snapped, slamming down his pen and book slightly harder than he'd meant to. He winced, then the angry glare took over again.

"What!" Jack asked, clearly astonished at Daniel's. _Get used to it,_ Daniel thought vehemently. _Stupid, idiotic, moron, stupid, freakin'…ugh, MORON!_

"Edora? How did you think she was going to react!" Daniel demanded. Not receiving a response but for a blank, yet shocked look, Daniel finally realized what was going on. He groaned and sat down, burying his head in his hands. "Oh, GOD," he muttered. He looked up at Jack. "You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" Jack asked, impatient and irritated.

Daniel sighed. "Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack, JACK. You obviously buried your head in the sand so listen to my words _very_ carefully." Daniel took a deep breath, ignoring Jack's expression, which was reddening with fury. "Imagine…having a teammate, say, me or Teal'c, stranded on an alien planet with no way home. It's not hostile, but, you know, you wouldn't want to be stuck there for the rest of your life either. You're the _only one_ who can find the way to rescue your teammate. You find the way, and work harder than you've ever worked in your entire life. Am I getting this right so far?" Jack nodded stiffly, anger dying and confusion replacing it.

Daniel took a deep breath and began again. "Turns out you're working for three months straight. During that time, you haven't left the base for so much as an hour. You call the neighbors to water your plants while you're gone, pick up the mail, all that stuff, and for three consecutive months you live on base, working whenever possible toward bringing your teammate home. After pulling thirty-eight hour shifts a couple times, Janet finally finds out and sedates you in the infirmary, just so you don't faint after another hour.

"And, _finally_, after all that time, you stand in front of the 'Gate and watch your invention shoot through. A remaining member of the team stands ready to climb through to dig his way out, to give your teammate the key to the door home." Daniel paused for effect, slightly irritated at his lack of understanding thus far. "When you eventually go through yourself, you greet your teammate enthusiastically, happily, with relief you haven't felt in months. He brushes past you without a hello to speak with a native of the planet. You, who worked _so hard_ to bring your teammate home, only to be ignored and to overhear your teammate confess to an alien that he wasn't happy to go home, leading you to believe your teammate didn't want to go home at all. Even after all the effort you'd gone to to bring your teammate home, he didn't want to leave."

Daniel tilted his head and gave Jack a pointed look. "Now do you get it, Jack? Sam feels unappreciated, hurt, and betrayed. For all she knew, you finally missed the alien woman you appeared to love so much that you left to go live out the rest of your life with her. And I don't know what you said to her when she went to talk to you, but I swear if you told her you don't care about her, don't love her, I'll –"

Jack's face had long gone white as a sheet, but now it mingled with confusion again, much to Daniel's irritated dismay. "What?" he yelped.

"If. You. Told. Her. You. Don't. Love. Her. I. Will. Personally. Ask. Teal'c. To. Seriously. Maim. You."

Jack blinked. "Shit," he hissed, and ran out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam slammed the door behind her, pacing, tears breaking out again.

_How can he not understand?_ she demanded.

_He may not feel anything for you,_ her conscience reminded her.

_But even so, as a teammate, hell, as an intelligent human being I deserved better treatment than that! Jack (ass) O'Neill is a no-good, hateful, hurtful moron of an idiot! And that's putting it lightly!_

Her conscience sighed dreamily. _But he's a lovable idiot._

_Hey, I'M in charge of daydreaming about him. (Though my fantasies are closer to kicking his ass than…erm, I'll leave it at that…) YOU get to tell me I'm insane,_ Sam snapped at her inner self.

_Oops, right. You're insane._

_Thank you._

Suddenly, her doorbell rang. Sam sighed, wiping the remaining tears. "Whatever it is, I'm not buying!" she hollered as she swung open the door.

Jack O'Neill.

On her doorstep.

Her hand tightened on the handle, and for a moment she was dangerously close to slamming the door in his face, yelling that if he wanted to get in he had to break down the door. If he was in love with Laira, she was fine with it. Colonel Idiot was perfectly capable of running his own life. She was fine!

She hoped…

Sam finally let go of the door and leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms.

"Can I come in?" he asked hesitantly, with the air of a man who was about to be denied.

"What for?"

Déjà vu. Wasn't that what he said to her? Oh yeah…well, what they said about payback was true… She felt a twinge of satisfaction, and oddly, guilt, at his wince.

"Yeah, uh…you know, I'm not so good at this 'sorry' stuff, but…"

"I get it."

He blinked at her. "You do?"

Sam smiled, a cold, twisted smile of amusement and bitterness, her baby blue eyes icy. "Oh yes. Sure, come on in."

With that, she led him to her living room. "Wait here," she ordered, and left for her office, picking up her laptop and bringing it back to him, suddenly glad she'd saved that document after Jolinar.

She booted it and clicked on Microsoft Word, and dug deep through files to one she swore never to open but never delete. She opened it, and shoved it on his lap.

"For you, Colonel. Or is it Jack? Well, I never can tell what to call you," she said bitterly, remembering his hateful words about her not calling him anything.

His eyes widened. "I won't accept it!" he said, surprised. He closed it and went to "My Documents" and deleted it.

"I'll go over your head, then. I'll talk to General Hammond. I'm not staying where I'm not wanted, Colonel – Jack – _Jackass!_" she finally yelled, glaring at him angrily.

O'Neill certainly was shocked by her behavior. He opened and closed his mouth several times, then scowled. "I came here to apologize, Major!" he snapped, shoving the laptop back in her hands. "When did you have time to type a resignation, anyway?"

"I typed that after Jolinar, Colonel Jackass. I never did anything with it then and it's about time I did."

"We need you, Carter!" Then he remembered his conversation with Daniel. "_I_ need you!"

She snorted. "No, you don't. You never needed me. Hell, did you even _like_ me?" Sam tried to ignore the hurt look on his face. It was probably fake anyway.

"I like you, all right. More than like you." He stepped closer, the pained look still in his eyes. "Carter…Sam…I have to know: Are you upset about Edora because you have…feelings…for me?"

She closed her eyes. "I…I…maybe."

"Maybe."

"Maybe," she confirmed.

He paused. "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"…Would that 'maybe' turn into a 'yes' if I told you I love you?" He paused again, for effect, and smiled inwardly at her widening eyes. "Because I kind of do, ya know."

"W-what?" Sam stuttered. "What about Laira?"

"I was drunk, Sam. I understood that she wanted me to have sex with her, to 'give her a child', but…one moment I was thinking of home, of SG-1, of you…and then she was kissing me and I was kissing her and…yeah."

"And the whole not wanting to come home thing was just an act so you wouldn't break her heart, is that it?" Sam asked wryly.

"Oh, come on Carter!" he said indignantly. "What would YOU have done in my position?"

"I wouldn't have put myself in that position to begin with!" she said angrily.

"Oh, please!" Jack snapped. "I know how many guys you've screwed over."

His words hurt but she was determined not to let it show. "Name one!" she demanded.

"Martouf!"

"Kynthia!" she snapped back.

"She drugged me!"

"You didn't have to eat the cake!"

"Narim!"

"Please! Jealous, _Colonel_?" she said, the rank bitter on her tongue.

"You wish, Carter! As far as I'm concerned, they can –" He stopped, words hovering on the air, many more cruel ones obviously waiting to follow. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. It wasn't calming, but it gave him back his control. "Sam," he began gently.

"They can what?" she demanded, anger mingling with hurt as it raced through her veins.

"It doesn't matter. I…I was angry, just now. Angry and competitive. When I get that way, I start saying things that aren't true, that I don't mean. Sam…" He sighed and looked deeply into her eyes, searching, as though needing to know something.

Sam's anger faltered. She suddenly didn't know what to think anymore. "Jack?" she whispered.

"Yeah?" he asked, a sound of subtle hope in his voice.

"Hold me? Just for…?" Sam's voice trailed off. She knew she looked pathetic, but…

Moments later, Jack's arms wrapped her, and he dipped his head into the base of her neck. She closed her eyes and tried to hold in sobs and screams of uncertainty.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I'm back! Forgive me, my friends, for being so horrible about updates. Here is the fifth chapter to "Learning to Trust"_

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It seemed to be an eternity before Jack pulled back. "Come with me," he said. He took her by the hand and tugged her toward the door.

"Jack?" she questioned, confused.

He stopped and met her eye. He had such a truthful, loving expression that it almost stung. Carefully he asked, "Come with me?"

Suddenly, it didn't matter where or why. "Yes."

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Jack led her to his truck, opened the passenger-side door for her, and closed it for her when she got in. She buckled her belt and he joined her, putting the car into gear and backing it out of the driveway.

Still having no idea where Jack was taking her, Sam sat back in the comfortable seats and tried to relax.

The ride was silent the entire way, until Jack pulled up to the curb of a sidewalk. He got out and jogged around the front of the car to open the door for her again, being the ever-gentlemanly guy.

"The park?" she asked incredulously when he helped her out, threading his fingers with hers.

"D'you mind?" he asked cautiously. Sam looked up at him, just to make sure he wasn't irritated by her unbelief. He wasn't; actually, he looked worried.

She gave him the tiniest of smiles, not yet ready to let her guard down. "No," she said truthfully.

Jack smiled wryly back, and squeezed her hand. After a moment's hesitation, she squeezed back slightly. His smile fell, and Sam felt a twinge of guilt. It was obvious that he was trying; shouldn't she, too?

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They walked silently through the park for quite some time. Sam found herself relaxing even despite herself, her hand limp in his.

Then, the most cliché thing happened. As they passed an ice cream trolley, Jack pulled her over and bought two chocolate cones, passing one into her unoccupied hand wordlessly.

Bewildered, though not unappreciative, she took it with a smile and murmur of thanks. She held it silently for a moment, then began to eat uncertainly away at the creamy goodness, not really tasting. It was just for the sake of something to do in the awkward moment.

Jack followed her example, and they sat at a bench some ways away from the ice cream cart, to avoid prying ears.

"Sam," he said quietly a few moments later, "I'm no good with words. My earlier comments kind of prove it. But…no matter what, I do love you. I am sorry."

Sam stopped eating the ice cream. Many words – angry, sad, apologetic, and pleading alike – hovered at the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't bring herself to say any of them. To her complete shock, in response to her silence, Jack stood from the bench only to kneel before her. He placed a hand on her knee; the warmth send happy tingles through her heart, which mixed unhealthily with her already jumbled emotions.

"Sam, what can I do to earn your trust back?" Jack whispered. "To earn your love back, if you ever had any for me? At least, your friendship? Please?"


End file.
